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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25804336">The Darkness descends</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiggles1984/pseuds/wiggles1984'>wiggles1984</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Warsmith [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:48:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25804336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiggles1984/pseuds/wiggles1984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warsmith capitalises on a rogue transmission taking the opportunity to gain access to new assets and begin to use his skills to smooth over the troubled water between his captains. But the danger on the planet is more immense than anyone could have realised</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Warsmith [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Darkness descends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Darkness descends</p><p>The Imperium had endured, across a million systems the Imperial administration had resumed its grip and humanities destiny and security seemed assured. From teeming stinking hives to vast agri-worlds where crops grew over entire continents the Imperial eagle soared and the people gave daily thanks to their emperor that they had survived such turbulent times. Raids by xenos were brutally repulsed and the traitors cowered in their warp storms launching petulant raids at minor stations. Time passed, first a century, then two, the age of rebirth it would come to be known as, not a golden age but certainly an age where humanity felt unthreatened in her superiority. In the darkness of the void though nothing is certain, even the strongest may find horrors they cannot even begin to comprehend, and humanity ever curious drew itself inch by inch towards these dooms.</p><p>Rho31-A was displeased, the shifting sands of the planet artfully designated Blaidd’s world made his excavation efforts an exercise in frustration. The joy of the partial discovery of an obelisk had faded and instead something akin to rage bubbled beneath the surface of his mechanical exterior. He gazed through the plasti glass at the cursed planet beyond, a purple crystalline silica whipped in whorls outside. This was a light movement at best, there were days when the purple sands battered the outpost with such force it felt like the habs were being buried. And they often were, digger servitors would then spend the better part of the day digging the excavation team out of the mound of sand. Not for the first time Rho31-A considered returning to his vessel and blasting the area with a lance strike, but he knew this would destroy all progress he had made and he wasn’t even sure that this wouldn’t be covered by the wretched sands. He turned back to his hololith and regarded the miniscule progress he had made, the obelisk remained unburied. Even in the heaviest storm, including the one that had crushed three habs killing over a 1000 of the diggers he had brought, the obelisk remained uncovered. Beyond it lay a trench, this was now reinforced by a special hab he had designed himself and had manufactured in the hive beyond, but despite that the sand worked its way into the trench. But today he hoped that they would finally get to the oft glimpsed yet rarely touched black metal. A tech adept scuttled into the room and genuflected to Rho31-A</p><p>*CHARGE READY* she blurted to Rho31-A in binaric cant *PROCEED?* <br/>*HOLD, MY PRESENCE REQUIRED* Rho replied and together they entered the lift that took them back down to the sub level. Passing the holy cabling and steel bones of his hab, Rho reflected on his emotions. He had elected to keep his frontal cortex as meat, a decision frowned on by his Mechanicum peers and one that had earned him censure. But he truly believed that his emotions were what made him a successful explorator. He had even kept his lips, he used them now to smile. He would be famous, he would find archeotech that would force his masters in the mechanicum to respect him and he would become a high Magos. Reaching the trench he noted the sand, he couldn’t explain its ingress, pict-captures just showed it appearing and so he merely ignored it as an irrelevance and had the workers digging it down here every hour of the cycle. They looked away from him now even as he tried to smile at  them. His metal mask with human lips was grotesque, an alien horror to these poor wretches, but to Rho his rebuffed attempts at human commonality confused him. He filed the information and focused on the task ahead, the path began to descend on metal stairs and the lights down here were dimmer than they should be. He had tried doubling the number of glo globes, and over powering the generator but regardless the dimness persisted. Again it was irrelevant, could not be explained, irrelevant data. Finally they reached the bottom of the tunnel, his metallic feet tapping with a dull crackle on the sandy black metal. Ahead the device thrummed with nuclear energy, the Scitarii were shielded from such energies but the workers were sickening already. They were resources to Rho and he ignored them like he would a shattered pick. The leader of the Skitarii made the sign of the cog mechanicum and bowed to Rho and the adept</p><p>*BEGIN* blurted Rho and withdrew behind the line, the Skitarii Alpha made his way over to the device whilst his men erected the blast shields. The human diggers began to notice the movement and were attempting to move behind the blast shields, however the Alpha activated the device and with a sprint powered by his potent augmetics smashed through the crowd mere seconds before the device fired. A blinding light was emitted as the nuclear energies blasted downwards, the wash of energy cooked the unshielded humans alive, their screams mingling with the whining moan of the machine activation. Broken picks, Rho observed as the corpses fell blood boiling from them, he ignored them and focused on the beam beyond. It reached critical mass and a giant pulses of energy smashed into the ground. For a moment Rho felt like he could see the Omnissiah and then the world became pure unadulterated chaos. He was airborne as a wave of red energy blasted back through the newly created hole, for a moment whilst suspended in the air he saw the machine smashing into the roof and then he slammed into the ground himself and darkness fell. </p><p>As he came to, his internal chronometer told him he had been unconscious for exactly 00:02:39.01 and his internal gyros told him that despite being supine he was moving through the dark. He smelled ungents and realised the alpha was carrying him.</p><p>*REPORT* he blurted, the alpha did not stop<br/>*MISSION SUCCESS, WE MUST FLEE* Rho was not sure exactly what drew his attention back down the corridor. The skittering tapping noise made his meat frontal cortex freeze with panic, he realised he’d made a horrific mistake.</p><p> </p><p>The Scream </p><p>The worst thing about being on the losing side, Charon reflected, was that if you chose not to follow the rest you lost even the basic protections of that group, meager as they may be. But entering the tumultuous hellscape of the Eye of terror held no attraction for the Warsmith or his remaining men. Some had elected to in the wake of the scouring, the years that followed had been horrific and even now the potent imperium kept them running. Like ghosts they haunted the edges of the galaxy trying to lose themselves in dark nebulas and unclaimed or even xenos space. Most recently his small fleet had lurked at the edges of a disgusting xenos system, it sat in a curious region of space that was entirely unremarked on by the galaxy at large. They had been barely space travel capable and just as they had reached their third planet an apocalyptic war on their homeworld had ended their wretched species once and for all. Now they drifted silently, tumbling through the void only keeping reactors lit so the human slaves wouldn’t suffocate or freeze, his captains hadn’t even bothered reporting in for over a year. Only loyal Derris presented himself daily reporting on ship functioning and the slow, steady drip of Legiones astartes who deserted in ones and twos whenever the opportunity presented itself. He sat now on the bridge, the low light was only brightened by the bridge consoles, he tapped an armoured finger on his chin. What even were they, he called himself a Legiones Astartes and yet he had betrayed his legion, refused the call to the iron cage. He was a pirate perhaps? But even a pirate had a purpose, even if it was to gain loot, he had stated their purpose was to save humanity but to be frank, humanity was doing fine. The scouring had stabilised the galaxy and even belligerent races such as the ork were barely a threat and had not been so since Ullanor. Casting his gaze about the darkened bridge he felt sick for a moment, not with true nausea, his physiology was incapable of that. But a sickness of the soul, had he betrayed everything he stood for for nothing? With a grunt he heaved himself up from the command throne and turned to leave the bridge, he stopped as a quiet hub bub came from one of the communication pits. His superhuman ear picked up the low chatter</p><p>“...ture signal?” an officer was asking<br/>“Yes sire, I don’t think it’s been properly transmitted” Charon stopped then, he turned back to the communication pit that was rapidly filling with bridge officers<br/>“It could be” someone said, they all looked up to find him and flinched a little as they found him bearing down on them. His silver and bronze bulk was intimidating to mortals without the unrestrained violence he had taken to showing to enforce his authority. <br/>“Report” he growled<br/>“Sire” a woman with the elongated limbs of a void borne human snapped a tidy salute “a transmission has reached us. It shouldn’t have” she waved a hand at a screen indicating the array “It was scattered and then cut off as quickly as it had begun” she leaned over and began tapping instructions into the cogitator and a green and grainy image began to play. It showed an old man in noble regalia, behind him a sealed door stacked with furniture and boxes and human troops laying on the barricade in an effort to add weight to it</p><p>“I am Heironomus Laird of house Laird, we hold this planet in His name” the man was speaking in a gabble “Our planet is over run, some sort of xenos” behind him the barricade thumped and his men tumbled off “Oh Emperor preserve me” he was visibly sweating even on the grainy screen “We need help! I pay my tithe! Please send someone! Any…” and with that the door exploded in with a crash. The pict cut out but the sound continued for 20 or so seconds after, at first screaming gun fire but after 12 seconds silence except for a curious tapping. The young officer started again</p><p>“That’s all there is sir, we think the tapping may be interference.” Charon shook his head<br/>“No it isn’t, it’s blood dripping” he paused<br/>“How can you be sure sir?” another officer asked and he ignored them<br/>“When you say unfocused, what do you mean?” he looked back at the first officer<br/>“Well sir it was not an oriented astropathic transmission, it was cast wildly into the aether” she nodded and continued “it is only utter providence that we were in position to receive it when we did”<br/>“The Imperium then never heard this?” He asked<br/>“No sire, no way they could have. There’s nothing out this way at all”<br/>“Summon my captains, and the shipmistress” Charon commanded and swept from the command deck</p><p>In the bowels of the ship Derris the Silverhanded circled another man, tossing his blade from hand to hand, he kept him off balance. The arena was little more than bleachers in a rough square but here is where all matters came down to, today though was pure sport. His opponent darted in and Derris leapt back buying his space, he tucked into a roll to coming up on the right of his opponent before launching into his own attack. A low swipe made his opponent leap and then a lifted elbow smashed the man back with a blow to his midriff, the opponent recovered well and Derris found himself dodging a series of acrobatic kicks. Finally he judged his moment and dashed in, grabbing his opponents leg he kicked the man’s back leg out smashing him into the grating. In a smooth motion he was atop the man, blade pressed into his carotid artery</p><p>“Yield” he hissed, and after a moment the man nodded. Derris stood and allowed the loyalist Legiones to stand “You have failed entry into the first Tito” he informed the man “You are fast and agile but you lack a killer instinct, keep trying” the man bowed and Derris headed out of the square without a backwards glance. His second Tryfer fell in beside his handing him a towel, it was a gesture of consideration but Derris had not even broken a sweat.</p><p>“Our lord has summoned the Captains” he informed Derris who immediately sought out his arming robe and began dressing. “Shame, Tito looked promising” Tryfer glanced at the man now exiting the area looking humbled.</p><p>“He failed” Derris said simply “The loyalists have to be the best, the other factions will obliterate us otherwise”. The fleet have divided into 4 main factions, his loyalists made up in the main of the remaining iron warriors with a few other legionnaires including a child of the emperor, the nihilist lead by the ex son of horus thunder walker. They espoused a more piratical lifestyle, their core was a mix of sons of horus and a few of the night haunters brood. The unitarians wanted to somehow reintegrate to imperial society, how was not clear. They were a small faction, mostly made up of members from across the legions. Finally the horusians agitated for them to join their brothers in the eye of terror, this oddly had almost no sons of horus and instead was made up of the few thousand sons and death guard but led by Eamon Wist. The desertion had mostly come from them, the real threats were the unitarians and nihilists. Striding through the dark halls a squad of loyalists formed up, tribal warfare was not unknown in the fleet. Derris met up with the silent captain who merely nodded and fell in beside him. The man now communicated, but he was almost comically sparing with his words. Derris didn't bother trying to draw him out and instead inspected the man out of the corner of his eye. His black armour held a veritable sphinx, unreadable, unknowable and yet… Loyal? He thought so, he was also fairly sure the wearer of that suit was not the man who it had originally been. He was a pilot extraordinaire now, and his tactics were rock solid infiltration tactics. The "old" silent captain had been a stolid line officer whose plodding adherence to bland predictable tactics had been notable. This one had floated a squad in sealed suits across to a space station to take it from inside. He barely paid attention to the halls as he passed through them, where once they had been unadorned iron they now resemble a bizarre mish mash of styles as the human servants of various factions painted graffiti and counter graffiti. At one corner the Eye of Horus had been struck through with a stylised fist, in another the Eye was painted crudely over the bleeding coin of the nihilists. The human cost of this war was found everywhere, a cluster of severed heads lay at the base of a semi shrine to the warsmith, in another several charred corpses lay where they had fallen. Tryfer frowned</p><p>“We will tear ourselves apart” he muttered, Derris looked at the hunched corpses<br/>“This is the way of things, the strong prosper, the weak die” without pausing he crushed the charred corpse in stride and continued on his way. </p><p>He was last to arrive on the bridge with the silent captain, he snarled at thunder walker and Wist and nodded at Levant, Levant stood with a second that Derris didn’t recognise. Levant, the man was another loyalist, but where the others were vociferous in their loyalty Levant merely did not oppose them. Head scout suited the man, his silence and sullen aspect had only grown over the centuries. Wist glowered at nothing, the man was a dyed in the wool Horusian these days and sported a single horn on his steel grey helm. Neither met the other's eye, only a month before they had led gangs of mortals against each other. The ship mistress remained on her command throne, she avoided engaging with any of them. Like all the people on the vessel she had changed, gradually more feeds and cables had been routed directly into her cortex. She was barely human now, more an avatar of the vessel itself. Her flesh had gained a deeply unhealthy grey hue, her eyes scanned text that no one but her could see. Derris glanced back at the captains quarters, his bodyguards remained at rest in their hulking tyrant pattern armour. </p><p>“What significant waste of time will our glorious leader indulge in this time?” sneered Wist, pointedly not meeting Derris’s eyes but behind him Tryfer bristled</p><p>“I don’t know, but remind me Wist. How went that mission to link up with the night lords?” asked Derris sickly sweet. Wist had led his company and a gang of humans to meet up with a rumoured Night Lord force. Instead he was led into an ambush of Aeldari and a full deployment of the Raider’s was required to save him and his men from defeat. Wist snarled across the table at Derris</p><p>“At least I don’t spend all my time licking my masters boots clean like a cur” he leant pugnaciously onto the hololith</p><p>“At least i have a master!” Derris advanced on the man and behind him Tryfer drew a combat blade</p><p>“ENOUGH!” The Warsmith’s voice boomed across the bridge, he swept towards the command dais wearing an arming robe. His hair as ever was shaved, he swept his piercing grey eyes over the captains. “Enough, comrades” he said more unctuously and the two men stepped apart, Derris giving way first.</p><p>“Sire!” he snapped a salute, on hearing a snort from Wist he shot him a glance but remained staring at the Warsmith. The others greeted the Warsmith in turn, the ship mistress nodded with the bridge lights dimming in sympathy with her bow, the silent captain slammed a fist into his armoured chest, Thunder walker also slammed a fist into his chest but with decidedly less force. Levant sketched a salute and finally Wist nodded barely containing a sneer, Charon ignored all of this and motioned with a control wand at the oval command hololith. A planet appeared then, glowing green with basic planetary data scrolling to the left of it, the name Blaidd’s world rotated underneath.</p><p>“A hive world?” Thunder walker asked confused “We could never come close to this, what could we possibly gain here?” </p><p>“The Warsmith will have a plan!” Derris insisted with Levant nodding along</p><p>“What possible plan could there be for this?” Wist asked, waving his hand at the system “For the love of the blood it has nearly 21 trillion inhabitants, we can’t raid that!” </p><p>“We could!” Derris insisted “My lord allow me the honour of leading the first wave!” </p><p>“Oh you fucking sycophant!” laughed Wist and Derris turned on him again. The silent captain was pacing the perimeter of the hololith getting a closer look at the data</p><p>“We’re not raiding it” the man stated and Derris felt a surge of blinding hatred and jealousy as the warsmith smiled and nodded</p><p>“Indeed, peace my friends. This system of lost humans, it sits at the very rim of the northern edge of the Universe. In theory it is under the aegis of a minor imperial fist crusade, but the Pelegron cluster is at best badly patrolled. And this system has sent a cry for help into the void” he clicked a button on his wand and the planet was replaced with a grainy green image of a nobleman appearing in some distress. Behind him furniture of some sort appeared piled up and men of what appeared to be the PDF were trying to hold it in place. The captains watched the whole video in silence, once again it ended on the dripping and the astartes unlike their human counterparts immediately recognised it. </p><p>“What the hell hit them?” asked thunder walker intrigued</p><p>“It couldn’t be Orks, the PDF would be in pieces” said Levant, Wist nodded</p><p>“Aeldari would hit and fade” Wist gestured to the table “And it wouldn’t be one of ours, doesn’t fit our doctrine at all” As much as it pained Derris he agreed</p><p>“What is this my lord? A new Xenos?” </p><p>“It would seem to be something of the sort, this message” he pointed his finger at the table “is a fortnight old. At high warp we can be there in a fortnight ourselves, I have just this moment given the order to the astropaths to take us into the warp” the captains reacted unanimously to this news with consternation. It was Levant of all people who broke through the hubbub</p><p>“Why sire? What is in it for us? We are raiders, we need to hit and run and make sure we come out with more resources than we expended!” The captains all nodded along with this, with one key exception</p><p>“It’s a forge hive” said the Silent captain and Charon nodded inspiring another spurt of jealousy in Derris</p><p>“So of course we could retrieve material!” he blurted out trying to make back ground in his master's eyes. Charon barely acknowledged him</p><p>“There is of course another factor” alarms began blaring announcing warp translation “Any humans we rescue will be… grateful. We have regiments to resupply and ships to run. This will yield both” Behind them the massive steel shutters slammed shut as the warp field generator began slicing open a gateway to the unreality of the warp, within moments the small fleet brutalised their way through into the warp. </p><p> </p><p>Arrivals</p><p>A fortnight in the warp was one of eternity and madness, mortals went mad and astartes felt tugs on their very essence. Who, after all, could sail into madness and not be affected, the gigantic monoliths that were the Raider’s vessel were surrounded by glowing envelopes of energy. Whilst the defeat of horus had calmed the warp it remained a lethal hellscape, one that was impossible to translate into words. The navigators gazed into it and yet they could no more explain it than a man could describe the colour blue to a blind man. 15 days later however the raider’s fleet began the process of returning to reality, fleet was a strong word for what was an ancient battlecruiser 2 Idolator destroyers and a refitted transport vessel that they used as a landing craft. Tearing free of the warp they found themselves at the very edge of the planetary gravity well, the planet was a mish mash of psychedelic hues with splashes of purples, oranges, vivid greens and of course the almost cancerous grey of the hives that humanity had inflicted onto the planet. Charon was in full Mark 3 armour and was seated upon his humongous command throne, he surveyed the planet before him. It was silent, no inter hive chatter, no broadcasts, no religious hymnals, not even traffic chatter, just… silence. </p><p>“Shipmistress” Charon turned to his right to look at the woman “Give me an in depth scan of the planet, I want anything, any sign of humanity at all” he glanced at the viewer “I’ll take a warp damned camp fire” he snarled and with that he stood and headed back to his quarters. His Loyalist guards slammed fists into chest plates as he strode past, he didn’t even acknowledge them. He strode through the reception room and entered his private sanctum. His mind roiled, they NEEDED this, it went deeper than just loot, the gunnery and reactor decks were crying out for new bodies, new people to drive them. Without thinking he brought his fist down on the steel desk scattering pens and parchment, Wist would make a play for power if they came up with nothing. Even Derris may consider unseating him if this turned out to be a failure, a soft chime brought him back to himself.</p><p>“Enter!” he bellowed the last of his rage chasing the words out with more force than he intended. A young naval ensign entered positively shaking with terror, he cursed himself inwardly. He never intended to frighten his bridge crew, their loyalty and skill should never be threatened as they were no threat to him.</p><p>“Si-Sir, the Shipmistress requests your presence” her eyes involuntarily slid to the fallen parchments and pens “she believes she has found something” </p><p>“Thank you Ensign, I will be out momentarily” he replied as gently as he could manage. Despite this she ran out and he sighed, he was the warsmith he reminded himself. Master of this ragtag band of humans and he would lead them, not just to survive but to thrive! Horus be damned, the Emperor be damned they would live and they would prosper! He straightened his spine, Iron within, Iron without, and strode from his chambers back onto the command deck. The ship mistress rarely spoke anymore but as he approached the command dais she deigned to now, her chair rotating on some mechanism she had had installed so she no longer had to walk at all</p><p>“Warsmith, the hives are dead but the humans are not” she glanced at the hololith and the planet was displayed “these heat maps show likely habitation” glowing red and yellow patches filled areas that were hives. Charon almost spoke but she spoke over him “On it’s own this could be a xenos infestation or even rot, but we found transmissions that we had missed. They are personal communications over an ancient and often unused bandwidth” suddenly the bridge was filled with crackling static and then a hundred voices, a thousand</p><p>“Erry! If you can hear this they have broken the third wall, come to Orun’s trading post!”</p><p>“This is an emergency evacuation notice to all residents of sub-sector 3-Alpha-1” </p><p>“THEY’RE HERE THEY… AHHHHHH!!!!”</p><p>Charon nodded, almost in relief, they held the humans fought yet. </p><p>“And the hive forges?” he asked</p><p>“They appear to be the center of all resistance, the hottest point of our heat map is there and a veritable babble of overlapping communications. However there is one communique that I feel may warrant more immediate attention.” the other voices silenced and a robotic voice began to speak</p><p>“This is explorator Rho-31 Alpha to anyone. We are at the source of the outbreak! We need assistance, we are in the western desert and we can get you into the hive! We have to stop these things!” </p><p>“What does he mean we can get you into the hive?” asked Charon</p><p>“Simply that sire, the hives are sealed. They have walls and gates installed in the wake of the heresy, they will not open for us and it will take weeks for us to effect a meaningful entry” she zoomed the holoith in to the purple desert “here is where we must start this expedition” Charon nodded</p><p>“Assemble the captains”</p>
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